The following days after Maya confronted Sophia felt like an emotional storm she couldn't escape. Every time she looked at her phone, every moment she spent in class, she couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on her chest. She had pushed Maya away, and she couldn't even begin to explain why. The only thing that was clear now was the mess she had created a lie that had spiraled into something she couldn't undo.
Sophia hadn't heard from Maya since their confrontation. She texted, but the messages remained unanswered. Maya had never gone silent on her like this before, and the absence was suffocating. Each message she sent, begging for forgiveness, only seemed to make her feel more distant from the person who had always been her anchor.
To make matters worse, her parents were growing suspicious. The lies were starting to unravel there too. Every time she slipped out to see Ethan, she told them she was going to study with a friend or catching up on homework. They didn't ask much, always assuming she was a model daughter who did what she was supposed to do. But that day, as Sophia walked into the living room after class, she noticed her mother sitting in her usual spot, reading a book, her face unusually serious.
"Sophia," Elizabeth Rivers said, her voice soft but stern. "We need to talk."
Sophia froze in the doorway. Her heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the moment everything would come crashing down. She had spent so long keeping up the illusion of being the perfect daughter, the one who never stepped out of line, the one who did everything her parents expected. But now, the cracks were showing.
She sat down across from her mother, trying to muster the calm she had practiced so many times before. "About what?" she asked, though she already knew.
Elizabeth set her book down and looked at her daughter with a mixture of concern and disappointment. "You've been acting strange lately. I've noticed you sneaking off a lot. You've been distant, distracted. And you've been lying to me, Soph. I'm not stupid."
Sophia's stomach twisted. "I haven't been lying, Mom," she said quickly, though the words felt hollow as they left her mouth. "I've just been... busy."
Her mother shook her head, her brow furrowing. "Don't lie to me. I know when something's off. And I know you're hiding something from me. We're not strangers. If you're going through something, you can talk to me. But right now, I feel like you're slipping away, and I don't like it."
The room felt suddenly too small, too heavy. Sophia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She had never been able to lie to her mother like this. She had never wanted to keep secrets from her. But now, it felt impossible to explain herself, to tell her mother that she had been sneaking around, lying about where she went, lying about who she was meeting. Meeting Ethan.
"I... I'm not going through anything," Sophia finally managed, her voice small. "I'm fine, Mom. Really."
But her mother wasn't convinced. "Sophia," she said, her voice thick with concern. "You don't have to pretend. If there's something you need to tell me, I'm here. But I can't help you if you keep shutting me out."
Sophia's chest tightened. She felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her own lies. The guilt was too much. "I'm sorry," she whispered, barely able to look her mother in the eye. "I just… I didn't know how to tell you."
Elizabeth's gaze softened slightly, but there was still an edge of disappointment in her eyes. "Sophia, I don't care about the details. I care about you. Don't make me feel like I can't trust you."
Sophia nodded, her heart breaking at the look on her mother's face. "I promise, I'll do better. I'll tell you what's going on. But... not now. Not yet."
Elizabeth studied her for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether she was telling the truth. Finally, she sighed and nodded, but there was a sense of unease in the air. "Just remember, Soph, I'm your mother. You don't have to go through this alone. You can come to me."
The conversation ended there, but the weight of her mother's words lingered long after Sophia left the room. She felt the walls closing in on her, the lies piling up faster than she could keep up. She knew she couldn't keep this secret much longer from Maya, not from her parents, and especially not from Ethan.
But what was she supposed to do?
The next morning, Sophia found herself walking to the library, her head heavy with thoughts of the previous night's conversation. She hadn't heard from Ethan since their last text exchange, and she wasn't sure if she should reach out or wait for him to initiate. But the thought of not talking to him was unbearable.
When she arrived, she saw him sitting at a table near the back, looking up at her as she walked in. He smiled, but there was something in his eyes like a subtle shift, something different. Sophia's heart skipped a beat as she approached, suddenly unsure of herself.
"Hey," she said softly, sliding into the seat across from him.
"Hey," Ethan replied, his voice quieter than usual. He looked at her with a mix of concern and something else. "How are you doing?"
Sophia hesitated, her eyes drifting to the table, her fingers nervously tracing the edges of her notebook. "I'm... okay," she said, her voice strained. "It's just... a lot, you know?"
Ethan nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. "I can tell something's been off. You don't have to pretend with me, Soph. If something's wrong, I want to know."
She wanted to tell him. She wanted to confide in him about everything, the lies, the guilt, the fear of losing the people she loved. But there was something holding her back, something that told her she wasn't ready to share it all yet. So, instead, she smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"It's just... complicated," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to explain it."
Ethan studied her for a moment, his eyes softening. "You don't have to explain it all right now. But you know you can talk to me when you're ready, right?"
Sophia nodded, her throat tight. She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that he understood, that he would be there for her no matter what. But the fear of everything falling apart was too much. The fear of exposing herself, her real self was terrifying. And so, she did what she did best: she lied.
"I'll be fine," she said, her voice steady. "I just need some time to figure things out."
Ethan's expression softened, but there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes. He didn't press her, though. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and gave her a small, understanding smile.
"Alright," he said gently. "Just know I'm here whenever you're ready."
As Sophia left the library later that day, she felt the weight of his words echoing in her mind. *Just know I'm here.*
But she didn't feel ready. Not yet. Not when the lies had become so much a part of her life that she couldn't even see a way out anymore.
The walls were closing in, and she had no idea how to stop them from crashing down.